


Keeping Up Appearances

by Brat_Prince



Series: Drabbles and Musings [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confession, M/M, Morning Talk, better be explicit than sorry, no porn just naked men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brat_Prince/pseuds/Brat_Prince
Summary: Syrren gets a rare view of bedhead Dorian, and while he loves Dorian in any form, the Tevinter is still self-conscious about it.





	Keeping Up Appearances

The sun hadn’t yet broken through the sheer golden curtains into Skyhold, into the large room the Inquisitor called his own, when the elf woke. He had made it a place of peace, where official work stopped at his door, but it was always Dorian reminding him to put the reports down. That man was truly a blessing.

He was also a blessing on the nights when Syrren simply couldn’t sleep alone. After the he walked in the Fade, seeing the home of the spirits that had seeped into his world, and being filled with the guilt of having Dorian come along with him, the two grew closer than their previous one-night adventures together. It was a rarity, in fact the elf couldn’t remember the last time, when he woke before the Tevinter. 

It was a beautiful sight seeing the deep tan face completely relaxed against the pillows, his hair no longer perfectly parted and the curls in his mustache crooked. Syrren spent a good time watching the mage dream before curling up again close to him, allowing himself to fall asleep once more with the mage.

When the light finally broke through the horizon, through the curtains, Syrren woke once again to find Dorian, wearing only a thin robe, looking out the windows to the mountains.

“Good morning,” the elf spoke as he pulled himself into a seated position, letting the blankets pool around his waist as he stretched his back like a cat.

Dorian turned to him, smiling and with energy as bright as the morning sun. “Good morning, amatus. It’s good to see you’ve finally decided to wake up.” The robe hadn’t been tied off, not that Dorian had any shame about it or that Syrren disliked the view. 

The elf smiled. “Dorian, have you already styled your hair? You haven’t even gotten dressed.” Indeed, his mustache curls were better aligned and his hair more evenly parted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the mage smiled. “I always look this beautiful. It’s a shame you haven’t noticed.” He sauntered his way back to the bed where he sat on the edge next to the Inquisitor.

“I wasn’t implying you weren’t always beautiful.” Syrren leaned down onto the pillows, still sitting mostly, but reclined. “Not that it’s a problem, I know you think a lot about how you look. I at least expected you to tie up the robe before moving on to your hair.”

Dorian’s smile faltered slightly. “Oh no, the robe came after the hair. Priorities, amatus.” 

The two men just looked to each other, Dorian keeping up the cocky façade and Syrren furrowing his brows in concern, but both looking at each other with care. 

“Are you planning on getting up, or would you like me to stand here for you to admire me? While I wouldn’t mind the latter, I am afraid we both have responsibilities today.” Dorian stood, whipping the robe around him as he turned the corner of the bed to retrieve his clothes from the Inquisitor’s desk.

“I’m just trying to figure out why someone like you is so concerned about their looks.” Syrren followed Dorian in getting up, leaving the blankets on the bed as he moved. He padded over the hard floors to Dorian, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and resting his forehead on the silk covered shoulder.

“You are flattering, Syrren, but I do need to get dressed.” The elf could hear the smile disappear from his voice. As the elf’s arms tightened, Dorian dropped the pants he had picked up to follow the pale arms to where they met, taking the elf’s hands. 

“I love you,” Syrren whispered with a kiss behind the other’s ear. 

Dorian, as he always did, froze. He never knew what to say after that. He was too scared to say the same even though he was certain he felt it. Syrren didn’t need him to. Not if he wasn’t ready. Dorian let his hands linger on the elf’s arms when the other released him. He watched the other go to his own wardrobe, pulling out a set of semi-formal wear fit for an Inquisitor, with eyes that were no longer bright, but deeper and warmer. 

Maybe soon, he would be able to respond.

**Author's Note:**

> Very short, self indulgent drabble to elaborate on a headcanon I got for Dorian that may or may not be actually true because I haven't finished the game yet. I needed to show some love to my virtual BF.


End file.
